Packing is a synonym for torture

This looks like an effective strategy for packing and getting the most use out of your swimwear

Packing is one of those life joys that are in the same category as bathroom cleaning, tooth extraction and Celine Dion. Not fun, but necessary. (Assuming Miss Dion is considered necessary by some outcast population of the world). 

For the past two days I have locked myself in my house with the goal of packing up all my belongings. Not only do I have to pack my bags for my year-long appointment in Oita, but I also have to pack up my entire house as we are moving out. Yes, it's just as much bundles of fun wrapped in pop-candy as you'd think it would be!

It's actually a surprisingly emotional process. Having to pack away everything that has just been there in my room- all the things in my life. Deciding what's important and what's not. Choosing between the black singlet top and the grey one (or both because I'm indecisive).

This is a disturbingly accurate portrayal of my situation

It's made more difficult by the fact I have a stupidly small limit of 23 kg for my luggage allowance. Considering that the actual luggage case will take up quite a bit of that ...I'm a bit screwed....

I'll be going into 33 degree weather, so I'll be packing for a very hot summer. Fortunately, my mum is going to bring all my winter stuff over when she comes to visit, so at least I don't need to worry about that! But there's a lot for me to pack:

• Formal business wear for the first 2 days where I will be attending a "Tokyo Orientation"
• Practical clothes for elementary schools
• Semi-formal clothes for the junior high schools
• Casual clothes for everyday wear
• Shoes, socks, undies, jewellery, bags, cosmetics
• Omiyage (Japanese custom of giving present to superiors and people who help you out)
• Tea for me (of prime importance)
• Photos and teaching materials (stamps, picture books, stickers)

So, if I have some creepy man on my window ledge watching as I pack , the I will feel peace and serenity as I pack? DEAL.

One nice thing about packing up the house is that I've found a lot of old childhood toys and scraps of this and that which have conjured up memories of my younger self. Yes, I'm talking about Tamagochis, yo-yos, Tazos and gossip notes to friends. I even found a crazily emo diary I wrote in high school which is embarrassingly extreme in its details about my interactions with my crush (i.e. "he stood next to me. I think I might die"). Being a terribly sentimental person, I find it very difficult to throw out anything linked with my childhood- so I had a chuckle or ten thousand laughing at my hilarious immaturity and poor taste. Fortunately, these characteristics remain with me today. 

I've learnt a bit during this whole process. Firstly, I have too many things. Far too many. Things don't mean anything, until you attach a meaning to them. So it's easy to see why I am drawn to certain things I own- the jewellery my best friends gave me, the top that reminds me of this or that time, the toy I remember playing with when I was 8. I don't know how I amassed so much stuff, but getting rid of it feels so good. Like I'm saying goodbye to a part of my life that's gone, and moving into a new part which is just beginning.


Ahhhhh, three more weeks and then I'm gone. It's getting real ya'll!